Dancing With The Devil

Some people say they can’t remember anything that happened around these times, that it was all a blur. I remember everything.

It was August 24th, 2010.

The moment the line disconnected I turned and ran across the house, stopping dead at the back door looking out at Dad and Wife doing some stuff in the yard. I’m not sure if I screamed, it felt like a whisper that the wind carried to him. One word. Just one.

“Daddy!”

I can’t recall calling my father daddy since that day, or for many years before. He looked up, dropped the pooper scooper with a look… I don’t even know how to describe that look. Horror? He ran to me and I got out where we needed to go. Then we were in the car. Wife was in the driver's seat, flying 90 in a 65 while my Dad sat in back holding me and trying to console me. He was telling me that she was going to be okay, that it would be okay.

There were a lot of areas in my life that I was very nieve in, this was not one of them. I turned my head, looked him dead in the eye and told him “You know as well as I do she’s going to die.” Well he lost it, started crying and all… So I lost it, and we cried together for a ways. By the time we arrived I was done. I remember the shoes I was wearing, black converse with bright pink, purple, and blue plaid stripes, I remember the sound of them hitting the ground as I ran up to see most of the family was already there, her brothers and sisters, her mother, my sisters… We did that weird thing where everyone feels obligated to say hi and chat idly in the hall. Right after we got there a nurse came out… we were causing a bit of a traffic jam so they gave us our own room to chill in as it was clear not a soul was stepping foot out of that hospital. Someone ordered pizza and after what felt like forever in a second they said a couple of people could come back.

It’s supposed to be two at a time, maybe it was because they already knew, maybe it was because my sisters and I looked like we’d claw the bitches eyes out if she dared say anything against it, but my sisters and I went in with Step-Dad. There she was, lying on a hospital bed with a tube sticking out of her throat and little gauze pads taped over her eyes in the shape of X’s. Step-Dad hung back, I moved forward. I heard my older sister ask why those things were on her eyes, I heard the response to keep her eyes closed. I imagined for a second her lids half open with her eyes rolled back underneath and as my sisters expressed horror all I could think was good call.

My sisters, they were crying at her. They were begging her to be okay. I don’t think I really said anything until it was time to let other people see her. I kissed her forehead and told her I loved her. We went back to our special room, family members were joking about that, but I tuned everyone out as I nibbled on the corner of a slice of pizza. I’d retreated into my silver forest.

I did notice one of my uncles had a brush in his hand when it was his turn to go see her, she loved having her hair brushed. I think I smiled at it, but it’s entirely possible I just smiled a bit in my mind.

One of my Aunts had left, we’ll call her Aunt Red, she’d gone to go through Mom’s things. I think a couple of people we’re pissed off, especially when she walked back in with a brown bag of drug paraphernalia. Crack pipes, needles, pill bottles, fentanyl patches you name it. Oh that was a dramatic moment and a half. I was one thousand percent on her side. Knowing what was in that bag could help them help her… fuck what you are and aren’t supposed to bring to a hospital. Some of them though I think we’re upset more because they had no idea that it had extended further than her tabs. I remembered asking each and every one of the people in that room to sign papers to force her into rehab and being denied. I took a smoke break then.

Sometime in the night they moved her to the ICU, so we got a much more comfortable waiting room. There was even a couch that pulled out into a bed, which came in very handy. I didn’t sleep though, I just lied next to Aunt Red and stared at the ceiling tuning everything out. Most of them stayed that night.

August 25th, 2010.

The quiet started to break and the room started to buzz. I didn’t want to be in the center of it so I moved to lay on a couch by the far wall and continue my ceiling staring. Some of my family members I think were worried I’d gone catatonic. At one point that morning my one Uncle, we’ll call him Uncle Loud, asked about me and went to move towards me. Ski stopped him and told him I was fine, that it was best to let me stare. So I did, ignoring the meaningless chatter until a doctor came to speak with Step-Dad. Of course he brought my sisters and I with him.

From my understanding of everyone's stories and what the doctors had said is that the dos were going crazy, so Grama got up to go tell my mom to do something with them. She went in to find her slumped over, and she didn’t think she was breathing. She panicked and called Aunt Red who lived upstairs with Uncle Green and she rushed down, called an ambulance and tried to administer CPR. We don’t know how long she wasn’t breathing but its estimated it was a couple to few minutes at least. EMTs rush in and shoot her with some narcan. Nothing. So they zap her. She threw up when they did, but didn’t start breathing so they zapped her again, the got a weak pulse and shallow breath so they loaded her up. Just as they were putting her into the ambulance Uncle Green pulled up with Ski, she didn’t ask what was happening, just called me as she jumped into the back of the ambulance.

He told us that they weren’t sure what she overdosed on, the amount of narcan they’d used muddied it up, but she’d been oxygen deprived for too long. The only part of her brain that was operational was the stem. For a moment I felt my sisters hope inflate, her brain is working?! until it was explained to them that the stem only controls breathing and heart beat, automatic functions, and wouldn’t last long off of life support. She was in a coma. But people come back from that right? People can come back? The doctor tried to nicely say no, I was less kind. She’s brain dead, a vegetable, she’s gone. I love my sisters so much but the doctor with his bedside manners was not getting across what they needed to hear. There was no chance. He nodded tentatively and went on to explain that even if she could manage to be one of those miracle cases from completely brain dead back to normal she’d have to fight off the wicked infection that had set in. When the EMTs zapped her and she threw up, she wound up inhaling some of it into her lungs causing quick and severe sepsis.

We had a choice to make. Step-Dad sisters and I went into a seperate room to hash it out.

There’s really nothing to talk about, pull the plug
She told me specifically to never let her be a vegetable
Me too…
That decisions been made then, what about organ donation?
We should do it
I don’t want them cutting her up like that!
Boo if it could help someone elses mom…
She wouldn’t want to be cut up
Her organs are shot anyway, fine
She wanted to be cremated
We’ll split the ashes, you three and Grandma
I guess there’s nothing left to talk about

We sat together for a bit, the four of us, until we were ready to make the announcement. When went out and told everyone someone pointed out that it was Aunt Short’s birthday tomorrow… we couldn’t let her die on Aunt Shorts birthday. So Step-Dad went and told the doctor… We’re going to pull the plug the day after tomorrow. We spent the rest of the day taking turns going in to see her. Sisters, Step-Dad and I first.

When we went in her face… her face was contorted, scrunched, it was exactly how she looked when she was about to cry. My sisters began to wail that she was in pain, the nurse promised to make her as comfortable as possible. Her head twitches and my sisters threw themselves on her filled with false hope once again, begging her to wake up. I drapped myself across her legs and cried with them. Involuntary muscle contractions, her brain is dead not her body.

We took turns holding her hands, talking to her… I’m not sure if they thought she could hear us… As far as I was concerned she was dead, she’d left her body, but her spirit could hear. We left to allow others to start their goodbyes, my father came out teary eyed after playing her their song, Angel by Aerosmith… he has the faded word Angel tattooed across his upper arm, he says he got it for me and Ski after we were born, silly liar. We went out for cigarette breaks and to eat greasy pastelitos from the corner mart across the street.

Sitting on the sidewalk outside I watched Uncle Loud and Uncle Green turn into angry rams locking horns over insurance crap that was really none of their business even if it did exist. Tensions were high, so… time to get high.

A group of us got in the car and drove around smoking a couple of joints. I didn’t, I just went for the ride to get away for a minute. My one brother in law looked back at me, Man, I haven’t seen you cry not once, you a triple G at least he made me laugh, though, he didn’t see me cry after either. No one did.

August 26th, 2010.

The next day went pretty much the same. There were far less of us though because many had left to try and make Aunt Shorts birthday the best it could possibly be, she was challenged. Turner syndrome, she had the mental and emotional capacity of a pre-teen at best. She was closer to my mom than anyone on the planet, she died a year later. Artery in her heart spontaneously blew open. I forever and always will hold fast that she died of a broken heart.

August 27th, 2010

Everyone filtered back in. Today was the day. They were going to pull the plug late morning. A chaplin came in to do a prayer circle. I quietly slipped out. I was outside of the waiting room, leaning against a the wall, staring at a spot on the ceiling and Aunt White came out.

Not my thing either
She wouldn’t have done it. If it makes them feel better, whatever, I’m not going to sit in there and pretend to pray to a God she didn’t believe in

They let us in to go see her sans machines after it was done, and once again my sisters were smacked in the face with hard, cold reality. Her face, still contorted into her crying expression was completely revealed, no eye covers or tubes blocking the mock look of pain. Her breathing was heavy, so so heavy, and rattling loudly. The smell of infection permeated the room… I didn’t know you could smell infection until that moment, but my god you can. They were beside themselves horrified. I kept my mouth shut because right now was not a good time for my brutal honesty. Right now was not a good time for me to say are you stupid? This isn’t TV, did you really expect her to be sleeping peacefully? It was bad. I didn’t cry with them this time, it didn’t bother me much. She was already dead to me. She couldn’t feel it.

Aunt Red got a sushi platter that night and we stayed up eating shrimp tempura and watching Apocalyptica music videos.

August 28th, 2010

She hadn’t died yet, I found myself praying to anything that might hear me that my sisters didn’t take that as a sign she might pull through. I could take just about anything at this point, but I couldn’t take seeing hope on their faces again knowing there was none. They needed the room, so they came into the waiting room after our first round of visits to tell us they were going to move her to a private room. We cleared out to take a break, get some air while they made the transition. Almost at the door I decided to get my laptop and went back. I grabbed it and watched them wheel her into an elevator.

It was a perfect day outside. Clear blue skies with just the right amount of puffy white clouds to look picturesq, hot out but not muggy, with just enough of a breeze to be comfortable. It was perfect. The converse I’d had on had dug blisters into the back of my heels, so I was going barefoot as I often do. I watched the clouds move in they sky and thought to myself that it should be raining, that the world should change for her. When we went back in there was a nurse waiting for us, she ushered us into a room where the chaplin was waiting. I was astounded that some of my family members seemed surprised when she told us as we were bringing her to her new room, she took her last breaths I thought it was funny, that bitch. She had at least one of us by her side 24/7 in rounds for days and the moment we all cleared out she decided to kick it.

I sat on the ground with my arms rested on my knees and stared. All of the people wailing and sobbing and she decided somehow that it was me who needed comfort from a stranger. In hindsight I appreciate the concern I suppose. She came over, kneeled down, placed her hand on my arm and said it’s okay to cry She may have thought I was possessed by a demon the way I looked at her. Luckily one of my life long best friends was crying at my side and quickly removed the hand from my arm warning She will punch you, in the face. Everyone else knew at this point to leave me alone so I sat there staring as everyone hugged and held each
other, falling apart around me.

Eventually it stopped, and it was time to say our final goodbyes. My sisters, Step-dad and I once again went in first. When I walked in there, when I saw her body lying there… I was so relieved. Years of Mom’s in trouble again, Mom’s in the hospital again, Mom’s withdrawing again years of I sat by the river for hours last night, thinking about just driving my truck into it, I hate myself, why am I even alive? I’m nothing. I just hurt all of the time. She didn’t have to hurt anymore, her fight was over, she could finally rest, she was finally free from the misery of being trapped in a broken body, a broken mind. She looked more beautiful than I had ever seen her. I took my turn last, I wanted to just look at her for as long as I could. Finally I slipped my hand into hers, not really one for the dramatics I simply brushed her hair, kisses her forehead and said one last time.

I love you Lady, buh-bye

There was nothing left to do, so we all went home. I remember going to get in the shower and screaming, dads Wife rushing in and the ensuing two women in their early 20’s VS giant centipede battle, the laughing like maniacs after. Finally I got a decent night's sleep.

August 29th, 2010

I kind of hung out in my room all morning, wanting to be by myself. I was just doing my thing in my room when I heard what sounded like a glass shatter, a BOOM, and Dad’s Wife scream “HUN!” I’m not sure I’ve ever move so quick. My foot got tangled in my blankets and I still got to his side as fast as she did, and she was in the same room. He was on this back on the floor, his eyes glazed and unfocused. I thought he had a heart attack. “DAD?! DAD?!” it took a few seconds but his eyes started to come back into focus, I used my body to help him sit up. He was confused for a minute, we got him to his chair and the EMTs got there.

He’d been trying to fix a phone charger… while it was plugged into the wall.

He laughed and joked with the EMTs and when they asked him if he wanted to go to the hospital to get checked he said no. I said If you don’t get your ass in that ambulance I’m going to smack you in the fucking face You could see the anger flash, the how dare you speak to your father that way eyes, but just for the smallest moment before they softened into understanding and pain. He apologised and agreed to go. He told the EMTs on the way and the doctors when he got there that really he was fine, that my Mom had died the day before, so if it made me feel better for him to get checked out he would. They were overly nice to me and the doctor agreed it was a good thing I made him come in because even though he was fine, electrocution on the level he’d managed could cause problems later if not detected.

His Wife and I stepped out while they were examining him for a current exit point (there was none, apparently it had just circled through him), to smoke a cigarette in the car. The phone rang, it was my Nana. She figured it was best to answer and let her know what a dumb ass her son was. Before she got the chance though Nana started ranting about a man at the grocery store about an hour or so ago had walked up to her, her a simple hand carved cross and told her Send this to your son... My father being the only son not out in California with her, she assumed it was meant for him. Emily looked over at me wide eyed as she said Mom, he’s in the hospital, he’s okay but he electrocuted the shit out of himself about an hour ago. Nana was beside herself. We all agreed that my Mom must have been looking out, because he had REALLY electrocuted himself and he was really okay. She went to the post office and put the cross in the mail as soon as she hung up.

August 30th, 2010

Unfortunately in our society when someone is dead that’s not the end of the ordeal. Fortunately one of my uncles had married into a family that owned a chain of funeral homes. So on this day I found myself in a room with my Dad’s, my sisters, and a couple of my uncles, picking out prayer cards and making arrangements. They stepped back and let us do it. Ski and Boo went after to pick out what she would wear in the casket, I didn’t really care about that… they’d outvoted me on immediate burning vs open casket. I made them schedule the funeral for the afternoon so that I didn’t miss my first day of classes, my uncles tried to convince me I could miss the first day, but everyone else was kind of like let Accio be Accio, it’s easier that way. When we went to leave I told Dads Wife that I needed to find a yellow dress. I told her about the conversation I’d had with my Mom and the promise I’d made and with a teary smile and that special look she has reserved just for me when I do particularly Accio like things she said she’d take me. I picked up my glasses this day too.

August 31st

We searched everywhere. We searched every store we could think of. I was at the end of my rope about to break down because I needed a yellow dress and I couldn’t find one anywhere! We were seriously about to give up, as I was in the dressing room trying on the last dress that DID NOT fit in the last store, tears forming in my eyes I heard my Mom’s favorite song come on.

Strumming my pain with this fingers…

“Hey I found this on the clearance rack” She tossed it over.

Singing my life with his words, killing me softly with his song…

It was cute.

I tired it on.

I felt all flushed with fever…

It was perfect. Thanks Lady. I kind of just stood there looking at myself until Dad’s Wife asked if I was alright.Yeah, Mom’s favorite song I said as I came out to show her, jaw dropped. Yep it was perfect. We laughed, paid, and as we left I asked if I could get my hair cut. So we did that too… chopped it all off.

September 1st, 2010

I went to all of my classes in the morning, rushed home, changed, did my hair and we flew off to the funeral. Some people acted a bit surprised that I was wearing a neon yellow dress, but most just did that little oh Accio smile and head shake while telling me I looked beautiful. I fluttered around like a fairy, the biggest smile on my face, laughing and joking loudly. I needed to be that person, I needed to be that ball of sunshine flying across the room. I needed to be that gasping breath breaking the surface of grief drowning all of them. I couldn’t have been anything else if I tried. I walked up to look at her in her casket, which was difficult because I have a severe phobia of zombies and major issue with dead things in general, and she looked dead now. She looked kind of silly honestly, all dressed up and her face painted with cakey makeup. Don’t get me wrong my sisters picked pretty stuff for her, black slacks and a dark blue wrap sweater that would have really complimented her eyes, angel wing earrings and all, they did a great job, I just personally thought she should be a pile of ash by now and it’s really silly to paint up a dead person.

The only time I came close to tears at all was during the service I looked over and saw Step-dads chin wobbling as he tried to hold back. I came really close to crying then. I remembered at my Papa’s funeral when I was 15, I had gotten up to speak and I was okay, I was holding it together until I caught my Uncle Funny with my eyes and he was crying. Everyone else crying didn’t bother me, but man when I saw Uncle Funny crying I lost it, I ran to Lady mid sentence and cried in her lap like a three year old. Today I was Uncle Funny. I could not cry. I did not cry.

The Devil couldn’t get me to dance to the song that was playing, so he changed the tune.